


May I Have Your Name?

by IronWoman359



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Ambiguous/Open Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:53:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25572382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IronWoman359/pseuds/IronWoman359
Summary: Logan Sanders is not a superstitious man. Perhaps if he was, he would have been safe.Prompt: "You're a foolish creature...but, a beautiful one. I think I'll keep you for awhile." With Fae!Roman and human!Logan
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders
Comments: 5
Kudos: 102





	May I Have Your Name?

Logan Sanders was not a superstitious man. 

This ended up frustrating him more often than not, as wherever he went he was unable to escape the superstitions of others. As a result, Logan often found himself excluded from groups as people claimed that he would bring forth ill omens or the wrath of supernatural creatures. Logan dismissed such claims, steadfast in his convictions that all things in nature could be explained through careful observation and experimentation, rather than the whim of the gods or spirits that simple minded folk often blamed for their misfortune. No matter. Logan would prove them all wrong, and one way or another, they would see that the only thing to fear from the world was ignorance. 

Such thoughts gave him solace when he found himself lost in the woods, who knew how far away from the path with no clear idea of how to find his way back to the village he’d been staying at over night. If he were someone more superstitious he would likely be terrified, as it was, he was only mildly worried that he would not find a suitable place of shelter before nightfall. 

A sound caught Logan’s attention, and he turned to see a man in a clearing, sitting on a stump and playing a small harp as he hummed softly to himself.

On the other hand, maybe finding shelter would not be so difficult after all. 

“Excuse me,” Logan called, walking over. The man’s music stopped as he looked up, and Logan’s breath caught in his throat. The man was gorgeous, with perfectly tanned skin and golden curls, but the most beautiful thing by far was his eyes. They appeared brown at first glance, but as they caught the few remaining rays of sunlight that streamed through the trees, they almost sparkled with a full rainbow of color…and those dazzling eyes were now trained directly on Logan. 

“Well well well, what have we here?” the man mused as Logan approached, and Logan’s heart skipped a beat. Even his voice was beautiful. If Logan were a more fanciful man he might even use the word _enchanting._

“Pardon me, sir,” Logan said, once he found his voice. “I seem to have lost my way, and–” 

“I’ll say you have,” the stranger purred, and Logan felt a flash of annoyance at being interrupted. “You’ve wandered into _my_ woods.” 

“I…your woods? Do not be ridiculous, they are not _your_ woods, they are simply woods. To suggest that a human could _own_ them is preposterous.”

“Indeed it is,” the man said, and amusement flashed through those beautiful eyes of his. “And yet here you stand, in _my_ woods.” 

Logan raised an eyebrow. This person obviously thought he was of significant importance, perhaps he was a lord of some sort? 

“Forgive me sir, but may I have your name?” he asked, and the other man froze. For a moment, Logan was unsure of what to expect as the stranger in the clearing stared at him. His gaze was intense, and Logan shifted his weight nervously, unable to shake the (ridiculous) notion that the man was looking _inside_ him. 

After a moment, an unsettling grin crossed the man’s face and he leaned forward, an unreadable gleam in his eyes. 

“Perhaps…if I may have yours as well?” 

Logan rolled his eyes. That level of self importance? Definitely nobility of some kind. Still, the sun was hanging lower and lower in the sky, and if Logan wanted to find his way out of the forest, he would do well to stay on the stranger’s good side. 

“My name is Logan,” he said, and the man’s lips stretched into a wide smile.

“Logan…” the man repeated slowly, leaning forward, and Logan gasped as they locked eyes. 

Instantly, the warnings and the whispers and the legends flooded his mind, about how you should never stray from the path in the woods, about how you should not stop to speak with strangers who seemed too bold, too beautiful, and how you should never, _ever_ give your name to someone you had just met under such a circumstance, but it was no use. Logan had never paid the stories any mind before, and now it was too late to start. 

“Logan…” the fae, (for Logan knew now that’s what it must be) said again, turning the name over in his mouth. He reached out and brushed Logan’s cheek with the back of his knuckles, baring his teeth in a smile. 

“Such a lovely name,” he continued. “A good, strong name, for a good, strong human. Tell me, what is the rest of your name?” 

Logan wanted to resist, he really did, somewhere in the back of his mind, but the faerie’s voice was soft and sweet and his eyes were so utterly _captivating_ that Logan found he could not bear to deny this man any request, lest those eyes vanish from his life, never to be seen again. 

“Logan Sanders,” he responded, and the fae’s smile widened, the last remnants of sunlight glinting off his teeth. 

“Logan Sanders…there is still more, Logan Sanders, give it to me.” 

“I…” Something jiggled at the back of Logan’s mind, warning him not to speak, but before Logan could focus on it, the fae was speaking again.

“Please oh please?” he crooned, bringing his other hand up to cup Logan’s face. “I wish to sing your name for all the stars and moons to hear, and I cannot do that if you do not give it now.” 

“Logan…Logan Alan Sanders,” Logan answered, and the fae squealed in delight. 

“Logan Alan Sanders,” he said, and Logan could feel his mind growing thick with a cottony haze. “You are a foolish creature.” 

The fae traced Logan’s lips with his pointed finger, then grinned, patting the human’s cheek. “But a beautiful one. I think I’ll keep you for awhile.” 

He took Logan’s hands in his and pulled him into the clearing where he’d been sitting before. 

“You may call me Roman,” the fae said, and as the moon rose his eyes glinted with a new light. “Come, Logan Alan Sanders. Dance with me.”

Logan found he was powerless to refuse. 


End file.
